


The Spy

by thesaddestboner



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Gen, Houston Astros, Implied Relationships, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-08
Updated: 2005-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 23:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesaddestboner/pseuds/thesaddestboner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I'm a spy. I can see what you do. And I know.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Spy

**Author's Note:**

> This one came from the same request post that produced [Tell Me Your Story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/566398). The title and summary are borrowed from the Doors' song.
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thesaddestboner) and [tumblr](http://saddestboner.tumblr.com).

Roger always steps over the chalk lines on the first base side, so Andy makes a show of scuffing his feet in the grass, kicking up white chalk dust just to see the look on Roger’s face. Andy’s the only one who can get away with mocking Roger’s superstitions the way he does.

The old catcher, Ausmus, watches on in amusement, dark eyes crinkling in the corners as he laughs, as Roger stops short, feet over the white line, and Andy crashes into his back, his hands landing on the small of Roger’s back.

Roger sort of leans back into him and Andy presses back, whispers something in Roger’s ear that makes the older Texan jostle the younger one in the side with his elbow and giggle like a little kid.

Ausmus shuffles off to the bullpen with one of the other pitchers, Backe, to warm up for that night’s game, mask pushed up off of his face, when he spots Roger and Andy a second time, sitting in the grass together, their backs flattened against each other, picking at grass and tossing it in the air.

“Look at them,” Ausmus says, pointing to them with his glove. “That’s the kinda attitude you need to play this game.”

Backe follows Ausmus’ glove to Roger and Andy in the grass. “What?” Backe scowls, “They act like they’ve never been here before.”

Ausmus smiles. “Exactly.”

As they continue on to the bullpen, both men miss the fingers pressed discreetly to the inside of Roger’s wrist in the thick grass, the large, warm hand on the inside of Andy’s thigh, fingertips tapping out in rhythm to a beat only Roger and Andy can hear.

**Author's Note:**

> The author of this piece intends no insult, slander, or copyright infringement, and is not profiting from this work. This story is a complete work of fiction and does not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. This is for entertainment purposes only. If you found this story while Googling your name or the names of your friends, hit the back button now.


End file.
